A few hours after her conversation with Betty had ended, Kim silently slipped out of the apartment, silently trying to convince herself during her entire walk back to her apartment that she wasn’t a bad person.
A while later Kim found herself pacing the living room with a slight limp, letting Betty’s words sink in. What kind of person was she? When she was little she wanted to be a hero, someone that helped people.
What happened?
Sure she wasn’t able to compete with super powered or well funded people who made up the “Hero Community”, but what kind of excuse was that really? She sat down on the edge of her couch, and sulked. She couldn’t be a hero, so she became a villainess. What kind of person does such a thing? What kind of person makes that kind of switch so easily?
God…where had things gone wrong?
She held her head in her hands and wracked her brain, trying to figure out what she had done to her life.
Betty sat in the hall, and leaning against the wall. “Come on Shego, you can’t mope around your room forever.”
A muffled “fuck off” came through the door in response.
“Shego, either you let me in, come out, or I can call Isabel and she can deal with you. I’m only your friend, not a psychic and I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”
Muffled cursing came from the other side of the door, but it didn’t open.
“Fine, I warned you.” Betty slid up to her feet and walked over to the phone. Dialing a number she’d been given incase of anything that might be classified as an emergency she started to doubt her choice fairly quickly. She didn’t hang up though, and on the third ring the receiver on the other end clicked on as the phone was picked up, then a melodious voice coming through the earpiece on Betty’s end, “Hello?”
“Ms. Gooding, its Betty…Shego is acting…well weird.”
“Let me guess….Shego’s pining away in her room, heart broke again?”
“Err…yes….she does this often?” Betty didn’t try to figure out how the woman knew, it was part of the older woman’s mystique that gave Betty a slight chill at times.
Betty could almost swear that the woman on the other end of the phone was smiling as she spoke, “It’s happened before. I’ll be over in about an hour. See you then.” A soft click was quickly followed by the electronic hum of a disconnected line.
Betty set down the phone on its hook and sighed. She wasn’t looking forward to the woman’s visit, mostly because the last few times she’d visited Shego had thrown plates at her. The only reason the pale green woman had even stopped was because she’d run out of dishes.
Betty walked over to Shego’s room and leaned near the door, “Shego…she’ll be here in about an hour…So…I don’t know….maybe cheer up so she’ll leave you alone or something before then.” Betty listened for any sound from the other side, and after making sure Shego wasn’t saying or doing anything she slowly walked towards her room, a slight cloud of depression floating overhead.
Why couldn’t Kim just accept the deal? Why did the things that seemed like they should be right end up looking so wrong?
Not finding answers in her own head the woman silently wondered if she could find it at the bottom of her stashed bottle of whiskey.
Kim stared at her ceiling, rubbing her temples with her index fingers. In the past hour she’d turned down five jobs, three of which paid very well.
She didn’t feel like working, she didn’t feel like running, she didn’t feel like stretching, or reading, or even watching a movie. She didn’t feel like doing any of the things she usually did to relax. She felt more like crawling in the corner and locking herself away from the world.
Her conscience had taken a holiday, and now it was back, slowly chiseling away at every choice she had made since the first time she’d been shown up by someone who had super human abilities. It all boiled down to one thing.
She was a horrible person, and she couldn’t understand how she let herself become one. What had happened to her? When did she start being such a bad person? When did she start toying with other people’s emotions so that she could feel like she was in control?
When did become such a bitch?
Was there anyway to stop being one?
She sighed. She claimed to do anything, but could she stop being a bad person?
Slowly she slid off of her couch. It was worth a try. She had to at least try to fix what she had done. Starting with someone she had hurt the most.
Slowly she slid on a pair of shoes, and walked out of her door, locking it behind her. It was time to stop running from what kind of person she wanted to be, to stop running from what was right.
Hell, it was time to stop running.
Isabel gently knocked on her daughter’s door, “Honey? Please open the door.”
A muffled reply came back from the other side.
“No, I will not go fuck myself. You have until the count of five to open this door, or the door and I are coming in.”
There was no reply from the other side.
“One……two……three……fou-”
The door clicked open, and started to swing open, a red-eyed Shego holding the knob. Her usually neatly brushed hair was a matted, tangled mess that stuck out almost every angle imaginable, her eyes puffy and dark like she’d been crying. Her lip was trembling as if she was fighting to say something.
Isabel sighed to herself. This was the worst she’d ever seen Shego. Usually she’d just go cause a few thousand dollars worth of damage to something and feel better, but this was much, much worse.
Shego moved forward, and hugged her mother tightly, burying her head in the shoulder, tears staining the older woman’s light colored top. Isabel held Shego close, stunned at the closeness that they were now experiencing. “Its okay sweetie….it’s all okay. No boy is worth this much pain.”
Shego managed to stop crying at her mother’s words, sniffling softly, “Mommy…what about a girl?”
Isabel felt herself inhale sharply, looking back at her daughter’s large, inquisitive eyes. “I don’t know honey, I don’t know.”
A/N: That’s all I got, a short update it all. A shout out goes to Starving Lunatic for the name Isabel Gooding. I’m horrible at names, and it seemed fitting, so I yanked it.
So thanks to her for not minding.